From Forty With Love

So, I feel I’ve neglected my blog this week but there wasn’t much I could do about it. Well, actually, there was but it would have been totally out of character – I could have planned my time and my workload better. That’s something I’m definitely working on but I’m not there yet. I’m hoping my new planning tools will help me – a magnetic white board on which I’m going to stick a big monthly diary that’ll be coloured in and scribbled on with time blocked out for work, fun, exercise, communing with nature etc. Let’s just hope I manage to drill the board to the wall soon – drilling isn’t my forte but I’m determined to give it a go this time, and without supervision!

For today, however, I’ll just have to accept that I had to neglect my blog a little this week to get my other work done. However, through that work, I have learned or been reminded of something – namely, that my anxiety around my ability to do a particular work project gets in my way and takes up my time much more than the actual doing of the work. Maybe when I take on my next project I can start from a position of self-belief and greater confidence in my abilities as well as an understanding that striving for perfection is a fool’s game.

Today’s post will be pretty short and sweet also – I hope to post something longer and a little more personal tomorrow. I’m in Somerset today (part of the work project) and it definitely is summer here. The sun is out, the fields are a glorious green and I’ve seen several people wandering around in shorts. Sometimes, getting out of London and into the great English countryside is such a tonic. Notice I’m not revealing my precise whereabouts. Ever since my Mum told me about the thriller she’d read in which the victim was stalked by her attacker via her Facebook and Twitter feeds I’ve been a little nervous about revealing my exact location!

Before I head off for my massage – yes, I’ve actually booked a massage (a rare event) – I just want to alert any Londoners who might be interested in taking their clothes of in the interests of bodily self acceptance about an event taking place tomorrow. Spirited Bodies was founded by three life models – Morimda, Lucy and Esther – who, as a by-product of their work, feel comfortable with their nudity and who now use art to empower other women to feel the same. As it says on their website, “it is wonderful to be comfortable being oneself”, but so few women feel that way, partly because of a culture that tells us we should aspire to a certain image of beauty or body size. Tomorrow evening, that’s Friday April 8, Spirited Bodies is inviting women (and one man it seems!) to take part in a life modelling event, creating Renaissance masterpieces like Rubens’ ‘The Three Graces‘ or Titian’s ‘The Seven Ages of Woman‘. The event is entitled ‘The Ages of Woman’ and women of all, shapes, ages, sizes and colours are invited to attend. I can’t say I’ve ever tried life modelling and I’m not quite sure how I feel about it for myself, so I’ll defer to Spirited Bodies greater knowledge of its potential benefits, as stated on their website: “Life modelling can be beneficial to those overcoming body confidence issues, to women accepting and loving their bodies following pregnancy, illness, trauma, abuse or being over-sexualised. It is a powerful way to get in touch with yourself through meditation and being an inspiration for art.” While I can see the logic in that I think I’ll stick to my massage for today, but hoping all those who attend the Spirited Bodies event leave feeling empowered and more comfortable in their own skin.

It’s been yet another long day of work (I’m definitely out of practice!) but I justed wanted to highlight an interesting campaign I noticed – thanks to The Beautiful You website.

It seems like the Australians are getting serious when it comes to the fight against negative body image, particularly amongst young people. I’ve only just become aware of this – these topics weren’t really on my journalistic radar last year – but in June 2010 the Australian government released a Voluntary Industry Code of Conduct on Body Image for the fashion, media and advertising industries.

The code suggests that the industries use a diversity of body shapes, sizes and ethnicities, that advertising campaigns support positive and healthy body image behaviour and that they stop propagating unrealistic images of beauty through digital manipulation of photography. The code also advises the industries to use models of healthy weights, to only use models over 16 to model adult clothing and it advises retailers to stock a wide variety of sizes. That’s all pretty cool. I’m not sure if any other country has anything similar although I’ve written earlier in this blog about the Campaign for Body Confidence that the UK’s Equality Minister Lynne Featherstone and member of parliament Jo Swinson run, with similar aims.

It seems, however, that the media, fashion and advertising industries Down Under aren’t paying much attention to the new guidelines, showing that change will take a while to come in an arena where so many people make so much money out of marketing beauty products, diet plans, botox and so on. To try to speed things up, campaigners have launched this online petition to Australian Minister of Youth Peter Garrett, calling on him to pressure the industries to do more to promote positive body image. The petition is organised by the Equality Rights Alliance, a network that advocates for women’s equality and diversity, and it closes tomorrow. So if there are any Australians reading this and you’d like to add your name, follow the links and sign up.

Blogging at the end of a busy work day is probably a really bad idea. Rambling and incoherent thoughts, spelling mistakes, grammatical errors and the disclosure of information I really should have kept to myself are just some of the potential pitfalls. So I’ll keep this one very brief.

Firstly, a small addition to Saturday’s blog. I wrote in my baby gap post that women who’ve never given birth will never know what it feels like to do so – even if they do end up loving their adopted children as if they were their own. I omitted to say that, likewise, women who have had children will never know what it feels like for those who don’t and really want to. It’s impossible to put ourselves in each other’s shoes, as much as we might try to in an effort to understand, empathise or sympathise. I was also reminded that I’d noted recently that there was no point in me hankering after a baby while suffering from lower back pain and doing very little about it. Watching a heavily pregnant mother reach down to pick up her small son yesterday evening – without any signs of painful twinges – made me think I’d better get back to Pilates if I ever want to do the same. But then I’d better get back to Pilates anyway, baby or no baby, if I want a pain-free future (I’ve corrected this bit – I posted it as ‘baby or no body’. What did I say about mistakes?!).

For the rest of this post, I’ll let others speak for me. So here’s an article by writer, teacher and speaker Courtney E. Martin entitled ‘Botox, bingeing, bullying and breast ironing: we must stop the war on women’s bodies’ in which she calls for a new ‘body image activism’ to challenge a wave of body hate that’s spreading around the globe. Courtney coordinated the Endangered Species women’s summit in New York last month and is part of an international campaign of the same name. I’ve written a fair bit about the Endangered Species events on this blog and have just published this short feature about them in Six Magazine, a new ethical fashion magazine.

And that’s it, short and sweet, and hopefully not too rambling.

I wasn’t going to post today, it being the weekend and me trying to practice balance and all that. But then I love writing on my blog and really felt moved – by some feelings that came up last night – to write today, so here I am. I’ll make sure I do lots of balanced things for the rest of my day and weekend, promise. Sometimes, too, the writing just flows. At other times, my thoughts are more jumbled – I think yesterday’s post is an example of that or maybe that’s my perfectionism talking. I hope I made some sense with my musings on truth.

So, the baby gap. No, I’m not referring to the junior section of the U.S. clothing store and nor am I talking about the period of time some parents deliberately leave between having their various offspring. I’m using the word ‘gap’ here more in the context of that familiar warning on the London Tube – ‘Mind the Gap’, meaning watch out for the void, the chasm, the space where there’s something missing. So what’s this all about? Well, you guessed it, I’m talking about the absence of babies or children.

I was out last night with a delightful group of ladies having a lovely time over chocolate brownies and pink fizz to celebrate a birthday. Now, I’ve learned over the past few years the futility of comparing my life to anyone else’s (‘compare and despair’, ‘the grass is always greener’ and all that). But it’s actually not that easy to turn off the feelings. I’d say the majority of the women, or perhaps all, were younger than me, some by 10 or 15 years, and several were already well into motherhood, with one or two babies. Those who didn’t have babies were in their 20s. Now this isn’t to say that I didn’t have a lovely time and wouldn’t do it again in a flash but inevitably – as a 40-year-old single woman without children – some feelings come up when I’m in that situation or they surface when I get home. I think I do a much better job today than I ever did in the past of accepting I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be – and this blog is indeed about self-acceptance, in all areas – but that doesn’t stop me questioning certain things or pondering my future.

I guess the big question is will I ever have a child of my own, naturally, and if I don’t what will that feel like, emotionally and physically? Will it bother me? Will I just move on or will I have a lot of feelings to ‘work through’? Will I try IVF? Will I adopt a beautiful child and love it as though I’d given birth? I guess the wonderful and scary thing about the future is we can’t predict it. Deep down, I have to say, I do trust I’ll have a child naturally but I have no real reason to believe that, other than an instinct and a sense that my body, inside, is pretty young and healthy. I guess I’ve also learned that there isn’t much point pondering this question for too long or worrying about it but then I don’t think I’d be human if I didn’t ponder it a little, from time to time.

At this stage in my life, I can say I know women and men in a whole range of situations in relation to babies and children – mothers of many, women who have deliberately and contentedly opted out of having any, women who are struggling to conceive naturally, others who are struggling to conceive through IVF, others who have been successful with IVF. I know single women my age and older, some who long to have children and some who have accepted they won’t. Some who accepted that fact with ease, others who had to work through feelings of regret, bitterness, anger even. I know single mothers and fathers, parents of children with disabilities, parents who’ve gone through the unimaginable heartache of losing a child. I know ‘miracle’ mothers, those women who’ve been told they could never have babies but then suddenly got pregnant or others who had the same experience but then sadly miscarried. I know women who’ve terminated pregnancies earlier in their lives only to wonder if that was their only chance. It’s an emotional rollercoaster just writing about it – imagine what it’s like to live it! I also know women who’ve adopted or taken a child into their care. A friend who’s bringing up her natural daughter on her own recently commented to me that I would never know what it felt like to have a child naturally if I never did. I guess that’s very true. But then another friend who’s become the legal guardian of a beautiful girl told me she didn’t think she could love the child any more even if she had given birth to her. It’s as though she was her own.

I can’t say I particularly know where I’m going with all this but it was on my heart so I wanted to write it down. I honestly think I would feel a sense of loss if I didn’t conceive and give birth. It just seems such a natural thing to do. But nor am I under any illusions (or maybe I am because I really don’t think you know what it’s like until you’re actually in it) about how difficult it is, at times, to be a mother or father of a young baby or bring up children, particularly as a single parent. I definitely wouldn’t be sitting here writing this blog if I had young children, that’s for sure – but then am I writing this blog to fill the baby gap? Or maybe I would be writing this blog as the little one slept.

I have so many other questions related to this fascinating topic. For example, do men feel the same? If men without children are hanging out with a group of fathers, do they feel a sense of loss? Do they ask themselves, will it happen to me? I guess it depends on the man. Just as it’ll depend on the woman. And here’s another topic I often discuss with friends my age: is our constant searching for a ‘purpose’ – a fulfilling and satisfying career or a mission in life – a product of the fact that we’re in our late 30s or 40s and don’t have children to worry about, something that would have happened far less often if we’d been born 20 years ago. But then I think women and men who do have children often ask themselves the same questions, around their careers or their purpose or where their life is heading. And of course, there’s the moment when the children leave home after all those years. I’ve probably also been prompted to write about these topics after catching some of Jeremy Vine’s Parenting Week on BBC Radio 2 (there are some advantages to working from home).

But going back to my own story, I also try to hold on to the fact that everything happens for a reason and that God knows what he’s doing. Unlike some of the lovely ladies I was with last night, I don’t think I’d have made a very good mother in my 20s or early 30s. The binge-drinking, overeating, undereating, overexercise, overwork, compulsive partying, risk taking etc would have left very little time for good parenting. Or would it? Maybe having a child would have changed everything, but then I’ll never know.

Let me just say here that I hope I don’t sound flippant in addressing these issues. I wouldn’t describe myself as someone who wanted a baby just for the experience, or for the sake of it, or because I believe it’s my right as a woman (although I admit there’s probably a bit of that going on, particularly the last point). I think I do understand the responsibilities that come with having a child and the potential for harm if my reasons for doing so are selfish. But as I said above, it feels like something I’m drawn towards and that I’d miss if it didn’t happen.

So the conclusion I’ve come to after all these musings is that, although I’m bound to think about it now and then, there’s not much point in ‘minding the baby gap’. I can write this blog because I don’t have little ones running around me. I can jump on my bike and cycle over to Camden to meet friends for coffee. I can find a park to sit in and soak up the spring sunshine and I can plan a trip to a friend’s wedding in New York in May. I guess, like anything else in life, it comes down to appreciating where you are and what you do have rather than hankering after something else, which ties in nicely with the topic of accepting our bodies as they are instead of waiting until we look like Cindy Crawford (or whoever our role model is) to start living our lives to the full. God willing, I won’t always have just myself to look after, but in the meantime I can do my best to enjoy the freedom that comes with being 40 and not having children.

It’s been a long day today but I wanted to write a very short post about truth. It’s a topic that’s been on my mind this week after a few recent experiences with dishonesty – my own and that of others. Now, when I say dishonesty, I don’t mean outright lying or stealing or anything of that sort. It’s the subtle dishonesty, the omission of true facts, the disguising of our true feelings – sometimes for good reason, sometimes out of fear – that I’m talking about here. Unfortunately, that kind of dishonesty is often harmful, both to ourselves and others. We or the other party may feel better in the short-term, but in the longer-term the truth generally comes out – with similar or even worse consequences to the ones it would have had if it had been disclosed in the first place.

On the topic of truth, two very familiar quotes came to me last night: ‘The truth will set you free’ and ‘To thine own self be true’. They’re so simple and yet so true!

And then I felt prompted to look up a few more quotes on truth and found the following: ‘We do not err because truth is difficult to see. It is visible at a glance. We err because this is more comfortable’. That was said by Alexander Solzhenitsyn, a Russian and Soviet novelist and historian, according to Wikipedia (Not a name I was overly familiar with!). And then there’s this one, attributed to James A. Garfield, the 20th president of the United States: ‘The truth will set you free, but first it will make you miserable’. That kind of chimes with what I wrote above about the avoidance of truth sometimes making us feel better in the short-term. This one, from the English writer Aldous Huxley, is along similar lines: ‘Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you mad.’ If it’s a topic that interests you, check out the Quote Garden’s quotations about truth. Incidentally, I also had to look up the authors of those first two quotes I mentioned. So, it was Jesus who said ‘You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free’ and the second comes from Shakespeare’s Hamlet. ‘To thine own self be true’ was Polonius’ last piece of advice to his son Laertes, who was in a hurry to catch a boat to Paris (apparently – trusting the Internet here as my memory of Hamlet isn’t that great).

So what’s my point with these musings on truth? Well, I guess my point is to myself: that honesty is the path to true freedom, even if it’s a scary prospect at the time.

To return to the topic of body image before I wrap up, I just came across a great blog on a website called Beautiful You, which is the work of Melbourne-based Julie Parker, a self-esteem, body image and eating disorder counsellor and life coach. In ‘Crinkly Cleavage and Ugly Underarms‘, Julie takes a swipe at the beauty industry and its latest attempt to sell women products to disguise the bits of us we’re not supposed to like. While I’ve had my fair share of body image issues in my life, I’ve never been overly perturbed by my underarms – and I’m not about to start worrying now!

Forty days is a long time (or 46 days if we count the Sundays). Can’t believe we’re only half way through Lent. I’m wondering how all those people who’ve given up something for Lent – like chocolate for example – are getting along. I guess I think I’m doing pretty well with my Lent challenge of abstaining from negative thoughts about my body and appearance. I think the one that might need a bit more work is giving up the negative thoughts about my daily ‘achievements’. But what’s been so amazing about this Lent experiment and this blog has been discovering the array of women and men who are engaged, in whatever way, in this whole body image debate and in a campaign for more self-love and self-acceptance. I’ve linked to many of them in the past 20 days and there are so many more to mention.

Today I came across this piece on CNN Living: “Want to be happy? Stop trying to be perfect“. It was posted late last year, I think, but I found it moving to read – it touched a nerve, I guess. I stumbled on it thanks to a lovely South African friend of mine, Heather Costaras, who founded the Beautiful Life Project. There are so many things to say about Heather and her amazing work that I’ll have to come back to her in another post but do check out the link. I really can’t do Heather and her work justice with the limited time I have today!

In the meantime, here’s another great initiative: the Stop Self Hate Paper – an online collection of articles, blog posts (including this one – thank you for featuring it!), self-help tips etc – created just a few weeks ago by Kendra Sebelius, an eating disorder and body image awareness advocate. Kendra explains in this video why she started the stop self hate movement on Twitter (#StopSelfHate or @StopSelfHate). Kendra also runs Voice in Recovery, which advocates awareness about eating disorders, body image struggles, mental health issues, substance abuse and self-harm. For all the latest research, tips, articles on these topics, check out the website or follow ViR on Twitter @VoiceinRecovery.

So, I’ve been pondering yesterday’s post about the work of Stephanie Heart and that great little prop Stephanie uses: the red rectangle marked on a glass pane with bust, waist and hip measurements and the words “One size does not fit all.” In the interests of honesty and full disclosure, I felt the need to say that I’m definitely at the smaller end of the UK dress size scale these days. But I haven’t always been. As I mentioned in earlier posts, I used to be larger, and only initially managed to lose the weight through an unhealthy cocktail of over-exercising, diet pills, under-eating and various other behaviours. Today, I just about maintain my shape and size through moderate eating (most of the time – I admit I don’t always get it right and can slip back into old behaviours) and moderate exercise. But as I’ve also endeavoured to point out in this blog, for me the body was never really the problem – it was and is my mind. It never mattered how large or small I was. It was the idea that my appearance, shape or size was never ever good enough that kept me trapped in my own head. So that’s what this Lent challenge is about – accepting that my body and I are good enough. I should also add that I have nothing against women who are naturally the size of your average model. It would be very unfair to hold their natural slimness against them – although I’m sure I’ve done it in the past!

So I’ve just been for a swim – the third one this week, which is pretty good for me. I’ve needed it. I’ve been doing some pretty intense desk work and if I don’t have variety and some form of exercise in my day – even if it’s just a walk around the park – I go a bit nuts. Exercise is good for my mind, body and soul and there’s something very freeing about swimming. I’m fortunate to me a member of a nice gym where someone very clever designed the pool and spa area. At the end of the pool, there’s a huge photograph of a beautiful sandy beach and crystal clear water. Every time I swim I’m reminded of the freedom I feel when I’m on a beach or swimming in the sea. I was born near water – even if it was the River Mersey in Liverpool (it’s hardly St Tropez) – and feel more free and at peace near the sea than anywhere else. In the spa area of the gym, there’s a giant jacuzzi where you can sit and relax in the bubbles and another area where cascades of water pour down onto your head and shoulders. So I sit under those cascades, close my eyes and remember sitting under the waterfalls in Canaima National Park in Venezuela or in Chapada dos Veadeiros National Park in Goiana, central Brazil, or jumping into the cenotes on the Yucatan peninsula in Mexico. I’ve been very fortunate. I am very fortunate.

Those trips were a while back and I don’t have any photos of them on my computer, so here’s one of the coast of Cyprus to remind us all of the beauty of nature, the healing energy of the sun and sea – and the fact that maybe we need a good holiday soon!

I started writing this blog yesterday (Day 18) and I really wanted to post something but I just couldn’t fit it in around my other work. So I managed to respect my self-imposed boundaries around using the computer at night and leave it until today. That’s good progress.

So firstly an addendum to Day 17’s post on following your gut. I like to think that when I’m following my gut, instinct, intuition or heart I’m also listening to God’s voice and doing God’s will. But I was reminded that God doesn’t speak through a windstorm, an earthquake or fire but as “a gentle whisper” or “a still small voice“, depending on which Bible translation you use. I guess that’s true of my intuition, it’s like a little tap on the shoulder or a gentle nudge. Sometimes I really wish it was a loud clap of thunder or a massive signpost saying ‘Go This Way’ but it never is!

Moving back to the topic of body image, I wanted to introduce a project I came across at the Endangered Species: Preserving the Female Body women’s summit in London on March 4th. The Stephanie Heart Project works with young women in London to help them see their true value, worth and beauty. Stephanie Ifill, who’s just 23 or was when I met her earlier this month, founded the project after hearing a 14-year-old girl say she felt ugly without make-up. She was shocked and set out to challenge the beliefs that seem to be robbing so many young women of their youth and joy. She started working with 10 girls and has since expanded to about 100. Several of Stephanie’s girls spoke at the London summit. You can hear them on this Elena Rossini video of summit highlights. The Stephanie Heart presentation begins at 4:33 on the video. For the purposes of the summit, she asked some of her girls what they liked about their natural appearance – it seems most of them really struggled to come up with an answer. Below is a powerful video put together by Stephanie ahead of the summit which reveals the insecurities so many girls, women – and men, of course – carry around. It’s called “They’re surely judging me!” and the accompanying text to the video reads: “Either we break the mold or young girls will mold themselves to fit”.

I was particularly moved by one girl who spoke at the summit who’s name, if I wrote it down correctly, is Kesia, who appears at 5:08 on Elena Rossini’s video. She talked about how she’d struggled with acne and felt she couldn’t leave the house without layers of foundation, but then went on to say: “Steph’s project has helped me to see that it’s so much better being comfortable being yourself than uncomfortable trying to be someone else.” I couldn’t have put it better myself. She said she’d made a conscious decision – after doing a photo shoot as part of the Stephanie Heart project – to stop wearing foundation and her skin had really improved. The following video, called Freedom, Friendship and Joy, gives a flavour of the kind of work Stephanie does with her girls. The bin bags, in case you’re wondering, are to encourage the girls to be more creative with fashion.

The other good thing about this project and these videos are that they seem to show these issues affect women of varying ethnicities and socio-economic backgrounds. It’s been pointed out to me recently and it was noted in this blog on the New York Endangered Species summit that far too often, the body image debate is monopolised by white, affluent women (and I put my hands up to being white and middle-class). It’s good to hear some different voices. As an aside, I was really pleased to see the Endangered Species website now has a link to my blog. Thank you!

One of the props Stephanie uses – featured in the above video and in the photo below – is a rectangular pane of glass with the words “One size does not fit all” written on it in red letters. The measurements written on the pane are bust: 34″, waist 24″, hips 34″. Stephanie’s point is that 95 percent of women and girls are left out of the images we see in the media and on the catwalk. She encourages women to stand behind the glass and celebrate the fact that their bodies and curves don’t fit into that mold.

I’ve included here a picture of myself standing behind the prop at the London summit. I wasn’t feeling that great about myself that day – it was pre-blog and before my Lent experiment on challenging negative body thoughts – and I didn’t really want to celebrate the fact that I didn’t fit into the mold. But today, I think there’s plenty to celebrate, even if I felt a little reluctant to post this picture.

So how are we doing in challenging our negative thoughts about our bodies and appearance?

Despite this blog being about all things body-related, this post isn’t about the size or shape of the gut, or about how to hold it in or accept it just as it is. It’s about what it tells us. Does anyone else struggle to listen to their gut? Or maybe the listening isn’t the problem, it’s the acting on it that seems to be difficult – at least for me. When I do take the time to stop and pay attention to what my gut/intuition/instinct/heart is telling me, it’s sometimes – not always – pretty clear what I’m being prompted to do or say. But then why, on so many occasions, do I choose to ignore it? Fear is the answer. It’s often the case that my gut is nudging me to do something a little bit different, something a bit risky, perhaps something non-conventional or out of the ordinary, something that requires a leap of faith, or maybe even just a little step of faith. And that’s what’s hard. It’s at that moment that all the ‘what ifs’ start to surface, all the insecurities, be they about money, relationships, career, my abilities or whatever, and I often end up doing what my head is telling me instead of my heart, instinct or gut.

That said, part of my journey throughout this Lent period and in my life today in general is about trying to follow my heart. I did it when I started writing this blog. I did it when I left my full-time journalism job back in 2008 and I did it today when I decided I could fit in a swim as well as doing my work. Good decision. It’s amazing how expending energy always gives me more and it’s equally amazing that I’m often reluctant to make the effort to do the exercise, despite being fully aware of the benefits. But at least I know I’m not on my own with that one!

But back to the gut and to fear. Mark Twain said ‘Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear – not absence of fear’. I think that’s spot on. In the past, I think I was under the impression that if I felt fear I shouldn’t take a particular action or speak up about what was bothering me. Today, I realise that the fear, more than likely, will still be there and I’ll have to do my best to walk through it.

Of course, there were certain fears I never had any problem with – jumping out of a plane with a parachute, bungy jumping, white water rafting or hitchhiking out of a Mexican canyon before dawn, on my own. Some would call that last one stupidity, and looking back, I’d be inclined to agree. Or maybe recklessness is a more gentle way of putting it. But fear really gets me when it comes to speaking my truth, to speaking up for myself – particularly when the other person is one of those strong personality types. Now, it was commented to me this weekend that I come across as just one of those strong, confident personality types. Maybe I do. It’s probably something to do with the life I’ve led, the places I’ve travelled and the work I’ve done. But there are certain situations that really scare me, and they generally involve speaking up for myself in front of strong personality types. But that’s just what I did this weekend, despite the fear. And it felt pretty good.

To finish, just to say I’m afraid I won’t be as prolific over the next few weeks as I have been up until now. I have a lot of work to do this week and next (paid, thank goodness) so it’s going to be tough to fit in blogging every day, but I’ll do my best, not so much because I think it’s expected of me but because I’m grown very attached to my blog and really want to keep it up – and I still have a lot to say!

Today’s post is for days 14, 15 and 16 (that’s today, yesterday and tomorrow) as I didn’t post yesterday and have committed to an Internet-free weekend (hooray for good intentions!). This is all part of my search for balance and follows a realisation that, while I’m really enjoying writing this blog and am very grateful to own an iPhone, I’m not good at moderation and I really deserve a reasonable chunk of time offline. Let’s just hope nobody invites me to the movies – I’ve forgotten how to get film times without the Internet.

So on to today’s topic: the quick fix versus the long, hard slog. As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, I’ve had a dodgy ankle for a few years, after falling down some stairs. Before the fall, I was a big runner. I’d trained for the London marathon, although I didn’t run it in the end (my Dad died, I got very run down and it seemed a good idea to stop hardcore training). I ran a half marathon, though, and generally loved running. It gave me a great sense of freedom and oneness with nature, once I’d stopped using exercise to punish myself or burn off excess food, that is.

Unfortunately, the ankle injury put a stop to all that. Despite many visits to doctors, ankle experts and physios plus a number of X-rays and scans, nobody has been able to tell me exactly what’s wrong with it. I’ve been running now and then but always end up with a sore foot. I was told, however, that if I consistently did the physio exercises, for a period of 3 to 6 months, the ankle would get a lot stronger and maybe I could even get back to pain-free running. So what did I do? Well, I did the exercises consistently for a number of days, then stopped. Then I’d do them again for a week or two, maybe even enough to notice a small improvement, but then I’d stop again. I’ve got an appointment with another physio in a few weeks and I’m promising myself I’ll actually do the exercises properly this time around. I hope the NHS (National Health Service for non-British readers) isn’t reading this as they’d cancel my appointment!

I remember a few years ago when my 99-year-old Grandad (he must have been about 97 back then) was given some physio exercises to strengthen his wrist and arm. He did them religiously, every day, with dogged determination and commitment. Now, I consider myself to be quite a determined person, but only in certain areas, and self-care isn’t one of them. I obviously didn’t get my Grandad’s genes when it comes to physio. In fact, I’ve been holding out for a quick fix for my ankle for a few years now. I can’t remember the number of times I’ve prayed for my ankle to be healed or asked my friends to pray for a miracle. I even allowed a rather large Indian masseur to stamp very hard on my foot after he told me he’d been known to cure people’s joint problems with a localised application of brute force. Ouch. And it didn’t work.

So what’s the lesson behind all these musings? Well, the lesson for me is that there are rarely any quick fixes. If I want to get back to running and playing the competitive sport I wrote about the other day, then I really need to put in the hard work on a daily basis and stick with it. Of course, it’s entirely possible I’ll write this today, do a few ankle lifts and wobble board exercises over the next few days, and then fall back into moaning about my sore ankle but doing very little to help it. But at least I know I have absolutely no right to moan and the solution, most likely, is in my own hands – or feet in this case. After all, not being as mobile as I’d like to be really does effect the way I feel about myself and my body. And that also goes for my lower back. I’ve been told daily Pilates exercises would really help my back pain and posture. Where did I learn that daily meant twice monthly?

Returning to the topic of body image, I’m astounded at how much great information I’ve come across since I’ve started writing this blog and plugged into the debate on Twitter. So check out the video below by Jean Kilbourne, a feminist author, speaker and filmmaker. It’s from her Killing Us Softly series and is a brilliant critique of the impact of advertising on the sexualisation of women and girls and the need for media literacy around the digital alteration of images.

I stumbled upon this video via another blog, You are Priceless, written by Liz, who describes herself on Twitter (@YouArePriceless) as “just a 20-something girl on a journey to spread confidence to girls and women”. There are some other great posts on her website. My research has also taken me onto the site of Empowering Girls (also on Twitter @GirlEmpowerment) whose self-stated mission is to empower girls all over the world to grow up healthy, happy, self-assured and educated, allowing them to achieve all their dreams. If you have young daughters, I think you’ll find some great resources on their site.

On that note, here’s to a weekend of ankle exercises, outdoor activity, self-acceptance and feeling at peace with ourselves.

It’s nice to be back at home after a week away. I may not be surrounded by beautiful mountains and the sea but my flat is home, it’s a little haven and I’m hugely grateful for it. So I thought I’d write a short post on gratitude. I’m particularly grateful for mistakes – the fact that I now accept it’s OK to make them and that I can learn from them, even if sometimes I have to make the same mistake over and again before I learn the lesson. I’m also grateful for my Vespa that gets me anywhere in London very quickly without paying the congestion charge. I’m so grateful for it, in fact, that I’m thinking of cleaning it and maybe even checking the oil. Car or scooter maintenance isn’t my forte but taking care of myself means taking care of my belongings, and my road safety for that matter. On the topic of my Vespa, I’m very grateful I haven’t fallen off it over the past five years. I’m also grateful today for the Internet – for telling me how I can clean out the gunk from my washing machine without having to call in an expensive repairman. There are many more things I’m grateful for – health, family, friends etc – but I’ve finally realised I don’t have to write down my every thought on this blog and that it’d also be a good idea to spend a little more time on my freelance journalism work to earn some cash.

So I thought I’d dedicate the rest of this post to other people and campaigns involved in the whole body image debate. Firstly, Natasha Devon. Natasha co-runs Body Gossip – a campaign that promotes realistic, natural and healthy beauty – and regularly appears on TV, radio and in the print media, talking about body confidence, self-esteem and eating disorders. I’ve mentioned Body Gossip before but it’s definitely worth mentioning again. Check out this blog she wrote about Barbie being an unrealistic and dangerous role model for young girls, posted after a BBC Radio 5 Live debate on the same topic. Body Gossip is also looking for stories to publish in a new book, so if you have a body-related story, poem or stream of consciousness you want to share, check out this link and send it in to them. I’ll be writing my offer this week.

And finally, I’ve written a lot in the past few days about the Endangered Species women summits that took place this month in five cities. The aim of the summits was to challenge negative body thoughts, self-hate and the industries that propagate unrealistic standards of beauty. The London one, which I went to, was on March 4th and Elena Rossini, the documentary filmmaker I linked to yesterday, has just put together a great video, called Endangered Species London: The Film, which sums up the event, held at the Royal Festival Hall on London’s South Bank. The film features presentations by Susie Orbach, psychotherapist and author of Fat is a Feminist Issue, Body Gossip, members of parliament Lynne Featherstone and Jo Swinson, Girl Guiding UK and more. It’s definitely worth a look.